2023 Literary Magazine McKinley High School Ka Hana Kaulana

KaHanaKaulana

Seeart "Duskville" on p.3

Poetry

"A Night of Nights" by Susan Nguyen................................................................................

"Ode to Music" by Fabien Pudja

"music" by Laurie Noneza................................................................................................

"Consequences" by Leialoha Orta.....................................................................................

"FriENDs'" by An Vo

"ThePainter Man" by Jacky Oasay....................................................................................

"Dream a Dream" by Jewel Guillermo

"blind" by Aleiah Leilua Toloai

"are you ready" by Aleiah Leilua Toloai............................................................................

"Why must I do everything to thepoint of destruction?" by KatieThai

"Still" by AmaraBrylleAuro..............................................................................................

"The Wind Blows" by Jacky Oasay.....................................................................................

"mrs moon" by LaurieNoneza

"Love'sWork" by ErikaCaldwell........................................................................................

"Them" by Afton Kajitani

"IsThisWhat It'sliketo Grow Up?" by KatieThai

"Lovefor Music" by SelinaTruong....................................................................................

"My Neverland" by SaraYara

"Love" by Kimberly Sam Maniquiz....................................................................................

"With the Monsters" by Daisy Wallace

"Duskville" by Jenny Cheng

"Winter" by Mai Nhu Quynh Doan....................................................................................

"Bass!!!" by Jenny Cheng

"Waiting For You" by Autumn Perdido

"Sow A Good Seed In Your Heart" by Mercy Gusman-Kalaluhi

"Stranded" by VanessaBuquing

"What I See" by AngelaAmorin........................................................................................

"Night" by Yanlan Wang..................................................................................................

"SORELOSER" by SaraLi

"Fluff" by Jenny Cheng....................................................................................................

"Cheezit" by Jenny Cheng

"Abstract Tension" by Mai Nhu Quynh Doan......................................................................

"Oh, Politicians..." by JaneNguyen...................................................................................

Cheers to 2023!

Daisy Wallace, editor in chief

In our deepest moments, weturn to creation ? wewritepoems, wewriteprose, and wecreate artwork when it all feels liketoo much. TheKa Hana Kaulana is dedicated to making surethose voices areheard; to making theinvisiblevisible; to bringing lifeto creativeworks. When looking through our literary magazinethereis onething that has becomeobvious: wearehurting this year. Wearetired, and searching for hopeand purpose (such as ?Lovefor Music?by Selina Truong) We at theKa Hana Kaulana hopethat you may find that hopein thebeautiful creativeworks we present to you today.

Wehavefound solacein our creativeoutlets and haveused them to express our emotions, our struggles, and our hopes for thefuture(such as the art piece?Abstract Tension?by Mai Nhu Quynh Doan). And whilewemay betired, wearealso filled with a senseof determination and purpose. Weknow that our voices and our art can inspire others to keep going even when things seem impossible. So let us continueto create, write, and shareour stories. Let us find hopeand healing in thebeauty of literatureand art.

ANight of Night s

Susan

Thesilencewas but a zephyr

As thepassionatedusk grows fervent

Timedoes not soar to grand heights

But rather, ?a night of nights?

Wish upon a star, To travel so far

Between a red sun And a full bluemoon

In thesolemn room awaits a mattress

Dry humid air strokes thetip of my nose

As I liedown, my spineshall depress

Faint whispers descend into ghastly blows

Ashes to ashes

Dusk to dawn, Timewill never end

Now descend into rest

Timeglides beyond this secular geode

Upon thegreen-bluehorizon

Now risen theaching sun

Gleamed onto my ivory-whiteabode

Worrying helps nobody, Patienceis a virtue

Yet timeis precious, In a moment?s due

Feeling thetender glareof themoon

Reminds of what should comeso soon

I never wanted a night of nights

I need peaceand tranquility

Lifeis a day of days, So enjoy it whileyou can

Thebluesky awakens life

Likehow timeshall go on

Nguyen, c/o'24

Jenny Cheng, c/o'25

Wint er

Mai Nhu QuynhDoan, c/o'24

Odet o Music

Fabien Pudja, c/o'26

Thank you for being there

When you dancearound in my head

Being likethesun on rainy days

On thedays I felt moresad than Eeyore

Or thedays I felt likea dog with a bone

Seeing headphones reminds meof you

Either playing games or eating my food

Sitting back pressing play

Doing homework for half theday

Just listening to all thevibes

Getting methrough thetimes

Helping merelax

Whiletryna do my homework packs

I wouldn't bealivewithout you

Thetimes wejammed out

When wechilled with no doubt

Or sat in depression

When lifewas crushing

Thetimes you madecar rides fun

Or making boring calls alive

Thetimes I stayed up until I saw thesun

Every day is always a different vibe

All thetimes wechilled at home

Or took a walk at whereever

You never mademefeel alone

So I loveyou forever

Thanks for being a great friend

And chilling with me

Making mefeel likeI'll makeit to theend

And seeing thegreat that I can be

Thank you Music

Love, Fabien

Bass!!!

Jenny Cheng, c/o'25

music

drowning in thewords of a stranger with a pretty voice

seems better than hurting myself with harsh words words that weresaid by people

who cannot seewhen their water is boiling

LaurieNoneza, c/o'26

Love

Kimberly SamManiquiz, c/o'24

THI S STORY CONTAI NS some heavily implied and mentioned content that might be troubling to some readers

What islove?

Perhaps it is respecting someone, seeing a person as your trueequal Or, it might bestability, theconcept of a home? someonepartially special ? to return to Arguably, loveis loyalty, thenonexistent doubt of betrayal. Others might answer that it?s passion, the strong compassion and connection of an empath There aremany ways to describelove, but Azalea didn? t know how to answer that question

Lovewas something shedidn? t think of much. Regrettably, shehad forgotten thefaces of her mother and father Theonly distinct memories shehad held werethediscovery of their bodies in their long destroyed home It had been years sinceanyonetouched her tenderly, romantically or platonically No hand-holding, kisses, hugs ? nothing Was it normal?Maybenot But, it was for Azalea and her comrades

Comrades, that was theword shehad used

Her peers werenot ?friends?or ?buddies?; they were alliesand associates. In such a small militaristic nation in constant war, Azalea and her comrades had no time for pleasantries and bonds Their timewas spent being raised as human weapons to prevent thewar tipping into human extinction It may conceivably becruel, but survival was key in living in such a ruthless world

Azalea had been only ten when shefirst had blood on her hands. Shecould recall how her hands trembled and theloud ringing noisethat overpowered everything around her When thebattlewas over, shehad kept washing her hands Washing after washing, with soap pressing ? practically scraping? against her skin Her superior officer punished her for using resources. Theawful realization dawned on her

Her hands would never beclean again

Shehad cometo accept that truth; slowly swallowing and trying to gulp it down as if it was sludge Thisisfor survival, that was a mantra that Azalea told herself. Countlessly, shehad repeated that phraseright before battle After all, it was thetruth With humans as the minority, they had to fight against thesemonsters that practically ruled theworld Therewereno elves, orcs, faeries ? therewereonly ?monsters?and nothing more But, it wasn? t that simple

Azalea had thought that her brother died. They had been separated after thedeath of their parents and, when shecouldn? t find him, shehad lost hope? her Raza Desperately, shehad hoped that hehad died young, sparing him thememories of living in terror and fighting for his life. So, when shefound Raza weeping

and crying as thetrainer hovered over him, shebriefly frozeat thesight and then all shesaw was red

Humans weremonsters as well

Something insideAzalea broke; a pickaxepiercing her stonebody, exposing it to thetruth. Her dear brother, Raza, was aliveand tormented For what?To be another faceless and obedient child weapon, traumatized early to bedesensitized to violence?Tobelikeher?Raza was theonly family shehad. Severely harmed, but still breathing It was purechancethat shehad found him, and shewasn? t going to losehim again

Thecarnagewas a blur in themoments afterward, but Azalea didn? t regret onesinglebit of it. Many emotions, namely animosity, filled her body It was themost emotion shehad ever felt in years; shefelt likea person Beforesheknew it, Azalea was on therun with Raza in hand. Shehad left behind corpses and an utterly ruined base But, sheknew theconsequences and shedidn? t careabout them They weredeserters now

Forever hunted, but still together

Still, they werenever safe. Azalea understood and had accepted that Shewas ready to fight for her and her brother?s life, they werenot going back to that place But, what shecouldn? t handlewas Raza himself He didn? t remember her, not much anyway. Hehad only really gonewith her becausehehad nowhereto go and shehad been much nicer to him As much as it made sense, it chipped a pieceof her heart off.

Azalea felt likea failure And, shewas Shewasn? t a good daughter, failing to hold onto memories of her parents Shewasn? t a good sister, failing to find and saveher brother earlier And bitterly, shewasn? t even a good weapon anymorewith thetitleof a deserter. She was nothing Nothing, but a failure When shehad wept and mourned that night, Raza had awkwardly hugged her Shehad hugged him tighter Battered and broken, but a bond could berebuilt.

Timeheals all wounds, but it certainly wasn? t easy Azalea couldn? t completely relax and sheeven didn? t know how to How do you stop thefeeling of being constantly watched?What about theidea that friendly travelers lied to you?Shehad wished theconstant rambling thoughts and scenarios would just stop But, it wasn? t entirely awful as it had saved her and Raza in dangerous moments Calm brevity was all sheneeded Shedidn? t think Raza fully understood theposition they werein Despiteacknowledging shewas his sister, hehad listened to her as a subordinate. Hedidn? t necessarily fear her, but it didn? t mean heexpected to be punished for mistakes. Even minor, trivial mistakes. Shedidn? t miss how tensehelooked or how hewould closehis eyes when shelifted her arms Her heart ached a bit more. They would beokay, they just need timeto heal To beaway from everything

Suddenly, they weren? t even in their own world Azalea doesn? t know wherethey were Shehated not knowingthings They should?venever stepped on the lands of theFaerie; too magical, too wild, too unpredictable Sheand Raza wereon therun with an apprehension team right at their tail Shewas so, so

stupid. Onesingleslip on theedgeand they fell into steep water Shehad too many regrets already, and she didn? t want their deaths to beoneof them

But, they didn? t die They wokeup surrounded by tall unfamiliar buildings and passing humans that briefly glanced at them Everything was too foreign; the language, theclothing, thescenery was too different Azalea and Raza knew that this was an entirely different world. They didn? t havea chanceto survive here They knew nothing about this world

Then, shefound them

Shedidn? t know what to think about theolder woman. Perhaps, foolish would bea fitting description. What kind of person brings strangers into their homes so casually?Giving them an opportunity to shower and eat?What's theulterior motive?If thewoman had anything planned against them, Azalea would haveno problem slitting her throat But, strangely enough, she never felt this safebefore

They had left her homein themorning Yet, sheand Raza would keep coming back After all, sheand Raza had nowhereto go Food was much harder to obtain and they didn? t havea safeplaceto sleep They would have to useany advantagethey could get. It didn? t takelong for them to stay longer and longer A day turned into a week and a week turned into a month Soon, they learned thewoman?s name

Reiko Ichikawa, a foolish but kind woman.

This world, this woman, was so utterly different She had helped her and Raza learn Earth languages, telling them thehistory of theworld, and that they werein a country called ?America.?This was not training, this was genuineteaching Although curious, Reiko didn? t press on wherethey camefrom Shewas simply comfortablehelpingthem and nothing more The amount of compassion felt unreal to Azalea.

Shecould kill thewoman With all theknowledge gained, Reiko was invaluablenow But, Azalea didn? t want to and shedidn? t know why What madeReiko so different from others?Perhaps Azalea was getting weaker and dangerously soft But then, Raza had looked at her dumbly and stated that Reikowasfamily Azalea had cried that night; not out of grief, but out of happiness Reiko was her mom

Azalea felt reborn in this new world.

Papers werea choreto do, but they wererecognized citizens ? human beings Shewasn? t a weapon or a tool to beused in war; shewas just Azalea Ichikawa, the adopted daughter of a friendly nurse. It was hard work, but shehas a stablelifeon Earth now Shehad earned her GED, got a job as a barista, and gained actual friends In a coupleof months, shewould begetting into college

Azalea didn? t even recognizeRaza as that scared and despondent teenager anymore Hewas moreloud, active, and annoying to deal with. Raza would talk back, no longer flinching away Hewould put up a good fight in their raremoments of roughhousing They werealive and thriving They werea happy family

Then, they had lost it all in onesinglenight

Reiko was shot in a caseof a homeinvasion. It was too sudden and abrupt It didn? t feel real, it couldn? t be ? nothingmadesenseanymore. Azalea felt her entire body trembleat thesight of blood Her heartbeat slowly overtook thedesperateshouting from her brother?s calls for help Reiko wasn? t going to survivea wound like that They all knew that So, Azalea was utterly broken when Reiko whispered her last words: ?I loveyou two?

Azalea wasn? t prepared for how powerful thosewords would be Love That was thevery thing that droveher Lovefor her brother caused her to becomea deserter Lovefor her mom caused her to stay and livein this new world Shenever truly hated anyoneor anything, shehad just accepted theworld as it is. Shemay have felt hatred, but it wasn? t thefeeling that empowered her It was love Azalea used to not know what love was, but shedoes now

Loveiscruel

Wait ing For You

Autumn Perdido, c/o'26

Sow AGood Seed In Your Hear t

Mercy Gusman-Kalaluhi , c/o'24

"My inspiration wasa Biblescripturethat I foundinterestingand it gavemeaningtohow I view my lifetoday "

Consequences

Leialoha Orta, c/o'25

Thereis no consideration, only the consequences

In everything I'vedone I just want to move on

But you surround me, you?rein everything I see

Thememories engraved on all of thewalls around me

There?s no moving on, not that you?ll let me Regret, torture, insanity

Thethought that things were?normal? yesterday

Theway that everything has changed today I?m going insane, nothing will ever bethe same

If only theworld had a reset button I would slam it so hard, I?d obliteratethat thing

But thereisn? t

So I'm left here, alone, to lay in a pool of theconsequences of my actions

And this wholetime, I?m only drowning, I haveno words

Only thoughts

But it?s interesting, quiteodd actually Becauseas I?m floating here, Only onethought floods my mind

Onething that is so unbearably noticeable

Onething that funnily enough, is theone and only thing that's killing me:

How shallow this pool is I?m cold

Vanessa Buquing, c/o'25

f riENDs

?Why areyou soloud??

I could not help it;

I was a social butterfly

Who flew without a carein theworld

My friends and I had sewn an intricate quilt

Intertwined by a red string of fate

With threads imbued with cherished memories.

Wewerejubilant and thrilled

To graduate;

To grow up;

To bemature;

To pursueour dreams;

To preserveour friendship

Thearrow of youth plunged into May likea lightning bolt

Glints of blissful lights gleamed, Balloons drifted mindlessly into thestarless sky, And flamboyant flower leis buried thenecks of graduates

Whilea tsunami of tears drowned theschool with pride

Thegraduation ceremony then transformed into a tremendous maze

I scrambledand stumbledupon a new school with new faces

When I realized I genuinely never got to say "good-bye," My red string snapped likea fractured bone. My emotions shrieked likea piercing mandrake

Thecaliginous sky could not cicatrizemy internal wound

My friends and I, though from afar, gradually unraveled our intricate quilt. Dust bunnies entangled with desaturated dreams and promises remained.

I wasa social butterfly

With wings shriveled and shredded; Isolated in a catastrophic cage Surrounded by arduous nonsense.

Oh, how I wish to return to thedays of carefreeyouth

But, to no avail, I fathom I must endurethis ordeal

For as thefollowing phraseregurgitates and reverberates:

?Why areyou soquiet??

What I See

Angela Amorin, c/o'24

ThePaint er Man

Jacky Oasay, c/o'26

I am an empty canvas, waiting for my turn

As smokelingers from a cigaretteburned

From theman with a brush in his hand

Footsteps thud on creaking wood in an untidy room

Filled with awning cloth that oncelooked likeme

That arenow plastered with painted portraits of his flawless face

I think to myself, ?I hopeI am worth thewait?

Thecallous, calloused-hand man stands

Walks over to my stand and lifts his brush

Then hesitates and walks away to seehis acrylic reflection

And dismisses thedust taking my place

Heis a treacherous, treacherous man

Hebrings other unfinished pieces home

Disregarding how I wait for him likea clingy mutt

Hetreats them with care, his noseflares from whispered laughter

A sight rarer than a celestial eclipse

I reminisceon when thepainter man loved me

When he?d look meup and down likeI?m a femme fatale

Etched and sketched lead lines that resemblehim

Thosedays now ruined by uncontrollablefaults

Becausewhen theSun falls, wood worms begin to crawl

Mites start to bite, roach feces in every corner

Effacing my shy graphite?s existence

Heis theenigma I haveyet to solve

Likethejigsaw pieces mixing in with

Thebroken glass from a mason jar

But I can only look at thesescenes from afar

As heswings his arm likea mad conductor

I long for theswift touch of his bristled brush

Imaging themixtureof chemical hues seeping into my woven surface

But I still lovethis man, likeno other canvas can Theconcentration in his eyes as heconstructs intricatelines

His freckles, moles, and pores, connected together likeconstellations in thesky

Thosenights he?d talk, making promises with a ruptured pinky

That hewill find a way to useme, carefor me, createart on me

Is thereason why I havewaited centuries?

Theman so perfect, yet so corrupt

After thedreadful days, hours, and months

Hetells methat hehas had enough

His blocky brown bag filled with covered canvases That oncestared in every direction; North, East, South, West

I hoped for thebest, but I fear my timeis now Helooks at mewith sunken, sullen eyes, Even though hecaused this everlong demiseof mine

Thepainter man strides over to menow with a bladein hand and says, ?Goodbye.?

Dr eama Dr eam

Jewel Guillermo, c/o'25

In tonight?s dream, I long to dream of us. A story about things wewill never get to do, and deeds that havealready been done Characters created by memory and a journey curated by theunconscious OnceI awake, my blissful image would bea meremirage. And somehow, that would bejust enough. So I?ll go to bed oncemore, dreaming a dream of what can never happen Although it is not reality, I?ll continueto paint a picture, living lifein a dream.

"At thetimethispoemwaswritten, reality wasa hugereminder that therewerethingsin lifethat werenot goingmy way. Therewerememoriesthat I wanted tohold ontoa bit longer, andfeelings that I didn? t want tonull quiteyet. At themoment, lifewastwoseparateworldsfor me. Even if it meant spendingmoretimewithmyself andmy imagination, at least anythingcouldhappen when I wasasleep. I would havetojust cometopeacewiththethingsthat I could not changewhen I wokeup."

AleiahLeilua Toloai, c/o'23

wearetold that loveis blind but i think lovejust gives you theability to bethat way to block out everything and seeunconditionally with no restraint or filter; weknow that weas humans arecompletely incapableof being perfect so instead wetry and find comfort in thecracks of our mind

welook towards thekind of lovethat will patch us up and makeus likenew, weseek atonement wherethereis noneand fix things that don? t need fixing; loveis thenotion that will accept us for who weare, as wecontinueto fall into theholes wehavedug. and beforeweknow it, we?vefallen in head first

this mask wecraveand shareas wetear into thefabric of our humanity; weseek a loveso deeply woven that it will understand us and every secret wehave, and why wekeep them theway wedo. all hushed and swept away as broken glass glass webroketrying to fix ourselves in

but i ask you now with certain hope: how blind areyou willing to bein order to loveand beloved? to bein love?

AleiahLeilua Toloai, c/o'23

in themidst of all this death and all thegrievances, wearetold that being a good person is enough to makeit through this waveof life. that having a kind heart and spirited soul is enough to survivethe world?s two strongest weapons: love, and hate i had theexperienceof believing this i showed all who cameand left metheextent which my heart was willing to beat for their scattered applauseand approval in return i gained nothing from peoplewho i gavemy everything, leaving meparalyzed from their mistakes and unspoken apologies i wish i could tell you this didn? t hurt me, or leavemecrying on the bathroom floor thosetimes i shamed myself for continuing to betheway i was and still am if only i could lie, saying i was ableto recover immediately without a drop of blood shed i wish i could show you i was strong enough to makeit over and over again, with twiceas much resiliency and brilliance. if only i could lieto you without a crack in my voiceto tell you that this lifewill beeasy, and peoplewill benothing less than compassionate. i cannot shield you from theway humans livelifeand decideto hurt you. i cannot stop thestorms, predict theweather, or prepareyou anymorethan i haveletting you know that i was absolutely not ready to exist in this cultured hell.

Why must I do ever yt hing t o t hepoint of dest r uct ion?

KatieThai, c/o'23

Why must I do everything to thepoint of destruction?

In my hate.

I would kill everything good so I couldn't haveit Hurt myself so others couldn't I would takeand takeuntil therewas nothing and convincemyself that I was always alone That I hadn't built this icy world, this prison of cold stone

That I hadn't designed this. no

It was just home

In my love

I would let myself bleed, and useit as ink to writeyour name

Let my houseburn and watch you dancein theflames

Kiss you endlessly even if thepoison burned my lips

Why?

Becausedestruction is theonly thing I Know

LITERARYMAGAZINECROSSWORD

3 Work byDaisyWallace

4.Thereare4itemsinthis magazinerelatingtothisword

7 Art piecefollowingthepageof number 3across

8 Titleof worksonpages6and21

10.Artwork byMercy Gusman-Kalaluhi

Dow n

1 PoembyJewel Guillermo

2.Answer can befoundonpage18

5 Artwork bySaraLi

6.Thispersonhasfour piecesof artworksinthemagazine

9.Nameof theMagazine

Win a prize! Come to W123 during 20/ 20 or after school on May 18th from 1:20 pm to 2:00 pm with the completed and correct crossword puzzle to have your name entered into a raffle to win a gift card!

St il l

Amara BrylleAuro, c/o'26

I?ll beleaving whitetulips on your grave

Tulips in a water-filled piggy bank

I?ll beleaving whitetulips for decades

Thousands of tulips to rot and to shrink

Haveyou already forgotten my name, Theway I forgot to say I loved you? If wemeet, would you look at methesame? Or would you walk through theway I used to?

Pleasetell meI won? t wait longer in vain I still need your comfort for when I slip Pleasetell meI?ll beseeing you again I still oweyou a thousand whitetulips

In other words, decades cannot fulfill In other words, I wish you wereherestill

Night

TheWind Bl ows

Themirror reflects thegrim ghost of past As thegreen-eyed monster swallowed mewhole Shecan? t let wounds fade, and thescars arevast Thememories of you carved in my soul

Whenever I feel theneed to miss you I blink perfect rhythms, hoping you?rethere Yet, I flinch at your facein therear-view Mirror you broke, our past beyond repair

You cannot fix thefoolishly tainted Is thelieyou deceived meto believe Varnishing what theabsent man painted Restoring all of thelifeleft in me

It either ends or it doesn?t, lifestill goes Don? t stop thinking of mewhen thewind blows

Mr s. Moon

mrs moon, married to mr night sky mother to thebillions of stars in theuniverse you hold many secrets secrets you arewilling to listen to i want to ask you if they talk about me theway i do so for them but then it wouldn't bea secret anymore so i'll keep talking,and singing for you until i get theanswer mother universetells me

Yanlan Wang, c/o'24

LaurieNoneza, c/o'26

Jacky Oasay, c/o'26

Sor eLoser

Jenny Cheng, c/o'24

Jenny Cheng, c/o'24

Cheezit

Love's Wor k

Erika Caldwell, c/o'26

A lovethat catches you from just a glance

Thefirst step that shows us wherewe?reheading

Thefirst look that puts you into a trance

Thefirst story that portrays thesoon setting

An unexpected sparklethat brings hope

A glow that draws out theinner self

Theneed to writea floral envelope

A beau, so sweet to pictureon a shelf

As thegolden tint sets in your brown eyes

Theups and downs that wemay discover

Theone, my partner, to watch thesunrise

I?ll always know that you aremy lover

To freethedoveon an important day

Thewords, ?I do?is what wewould say

Asloveisa feelingand isshown through actions"

"I wrotethispoemtoportray what loveislike It isn? t theexact way you?d describelove, aslovecan beshown in many ways Lovemay start unexpectedly and lovecan leadtobigthings

Them

Afton Kajitani, c/o'25

heart break comes in many different ways whether a lover has cheated on you whether your favoritecharacter died but my heart break comes as what I can? t have and what I can? t have is you

I should havetried harder to keep you around but timehas its way with me dragging medown into thedepths of pain whereI can? t breathe

I?m sorry

I shouldn? t bethinking about you so much now it was obvious that you didn? t want mearound I was stupid to think wewould beforever did I ask for too much? was I not enough? it?s too late

what I really want to know is how you?re doing do you miss meas much? it?s stupid to think thesequestions, isn? t it? I already know theanswer to them and that answer is no

you haven? t thought about mesince at least, not in a good way that?s okay, right? I havebetter friends than you but no onecould makemelaugh likeyou did you took that away from me you took so much of my lifeaway from me just for it all to end in heart break but I?m still thankful that I met you is that bad to think?

Is t his what it 's l iket o gr ow up?

KatieThai, c/o'23

Thebright colors of childhood fading to gray

With each passing year

Thegriefs of theworld resting upon your shoulder

Every morning and every evening

thenews brings new tragedy

Death, blood, and moreagony

And sometimes I think of how my futurewas stolen

By generations of greed now Earth is polluted

So whileI should beworrying about colleges and grades

Instead I worry about thesurvival of the human race

Therearelives at stake

And wehaveno oneto blame but ourselves

And sometimes I think about theunfairness and injustices of theworld

Thebiases, thediscrimination

Thefear of a woman walking alone down a street at night

Thepain of an immigrant family being separated

Thosewho cannot lovein peace

And livewith thefear of being hurt killed or incarcerated

And theracism that continues to persist becauseof a system that?s broken

This wasn? t supposed to betheworld

I grew up in, it?s not thebeautiful fantasy I imagined

It?s so divided, so filled with hatred

How can onewatch theworld crumble

And not want to saveit?

Wit h TheMonst er s

Daisy Wallace, c/o'24

?That was your last chance, kid,?Xander stated, swatting her shin with a broom, thepastries she?d burnt tossed to theground by Xander, along with her lies Therewas no way shecould explain this away with a shrug and a whitelie Heswung thedoor of theshop open and nodded his head, signaling her swift exit. Thebristles scratched Natasia?s legs, making her skin crawl Shescrambled to her feet, theremnants of a batch of burnt pastries scattered across thefloor ?Hey!?Natasia scowled, and pointed at theburnt food. ?Theseareedible,?sheargued, ?they?rejust not? you know, that good?

Xander looked at her, deadpan, and swept theburnt food out thedoor so it followed her. ?I?m not hereto teach you how to bake? you said you knew how to do that I?m hereto makemoney Now get out of my shop!?

Natasia stomped out of thedoor, thescent of charred food clinging to her clothes Thedead streets were achingly silent; only chittering rats could beheard Goosebumps skated over her arms, and thehair on the back of her neck pricked. Thefeeling of coursematerial around her neck reminded her shestill worethepale pink apron from ?Xander?sFineEatery ?Fine She rolled her eyes Finefor therats eating her burnt scraps, maybe. But that food could not possibly befit for human consumption At least, sheconsoled herself, she?d gotten somemoney from theplace After everything that had happened all thosemonths ago she was in desperateneed of somequick cash, and even if Xander didn? t uphold many OSHA standards, hedid pay under thetable

Shekicked a rock in front of her, and watched it fly forward down thestreet and clack against thesidewalk Headlight beams shown in front of her, casting her shadow across theroad Hurried, shedashed to the sidewalk, eyes widewhen thecar swerved to follow her onto thecurb Sherecognized that car Natasia jumped back, and sprinted into a grassy knoll in front of the local library She?d been theremany times before, a small oasis in a new town whereall shehad was her bitter father and thememories of a boy who her heart ached for Maybeshehurt from theloss of friendship, but either way thepain lingered

Her shoes caught on thesteps in front of thelibrary, and shetripped forward Natasia?s knees burned from thescrapeof concrete Theteen?s bag fell next to her, its remnants scattered out in front of her but any thoughts of gathering theitems fled from her mind the second thesound of boots on gravel hit her ears Breath struggled down her throat as her chest constricted and her lungs clasped at nothing. Slow steps followed her jagged movements to thelibrary?s front door Shadows ensconced theentrance, clinging to every creviceof the

room, and yet even that unwelcomedarkness along with thethreat of being arrested scared her far less than the woman behind her

?Natasia,?a melodic voicesing-songed from behind her ?Did you think you could screw meover and I?d let you get away??

Cold night air brought a fog to theair with every breath shetook, and when Natasia found thesearing brown eyes of her assailant staring back at her through thereflection of thedoor, shecould do nothing but slam her fist forward Glass shattered under her hand and exploded into thelibrary Adrenalinepushed back the pain sheknew sheshould havebeen feeling. Bits of glass clung to thenewly opened wounds along her knuckles, but shecouldn? t focus on that No, sheneeded to survivethis Surviveher

Shestuck her arm through theopening and found the deadbolt. It fell away with a click, allowing Natasia to push forward without another thought Glass crunched under her feet, thetender material of her older sneakers just barely holding up under thepressureof theshards

?Bad girls don? t get happy endings, Natasia,?the woman reminded her, following theteens' quick steps ?You can? t escapeme? at least, not alive?

Thedead library relayed thestark reminder that, in this, shewas alone Crunching glass echoed after her, casual, steady steps sounding behind her Natasia cradled her hand and launched forward, ignoring the aches in her knees, but taking noteof theblood trail that marked her every step Shefled through thestacks, thescent of old books and worn pages filling her senses In an attempt to quiet her steps, Natasia lifted her feet a littleless with each step and began kicking off theworn sneakers They cameoff without a problem, their place on theground theonly cluethat shehad even been there ? asidefromthebloodsteadily drippingfrombetween her fingers

Tucking her injured hand to her stomach so theapron might soak up theblood, Natasia pressed her back against a bookshelf as shecrept forward Her vigilant eyes searching through thedark and her ears perked. Sheprepared herself for her pursuer to makea noise.

?You can run, littlebird,?her voicesounded, ?but you can? t hide?Thesmall hairs along her arms prickled, and Natasia whipped around, fist raised, ready to swing All that met her was air ? an empty space meant to taunt her Shesearched for thewoman's familiar head of blondehair but only old, dirty books stood around her.

Sheopened her mouth, ready to apologize, maybebeg for mercy, but theclicking of heels nearby became apparent so her mouth snapped shut Thefootsteps stopped just as soon as they started, and Natasia tip-toed forward

?I can seeyou, pet,?thedistant voiceof her tormentor slid along her facelikea caress Natasia?s eyes strained to seebetter in thedark and sheturned right, ready to keep moving, when thewoman spokeagain ?I wouldn? t do that, if I wereyou, pet. Monsters lurk over there.?

?Macy!?Natasia finally called out thewoman?s name, her voicehoarsefrom terror and anger ?Why don? t you just comeout and attack me??

Macy?s trilling laugh echoed around them. ?Attack you?Baby, this istheattack. What fun would it beif I weretoo hasty??Shetrailed off, theclicking sound of her heels starting again ?No, I think I?ll havemy fun beforethis ends. It's not likeyou don? t deservethis.?

?I??Natasia stopped short, unableto find an argument Shedid deservethis ? she?d left Macy?s family broken and begging on thestreets Certainly no onewas moreworthy of this than her. Natasia didn? t say it out loud Instead, shewent to theleft, away from wherethevoicesounded and began to removetheapron to ball it around her wounds Thecoarsefabric acted as a sort of gauze, enough so that shestopped worrying about thecuts momentarily A junction camein front of her: stairs to thesecond floor of thelibrary or deeper into theold non-fiction stacks.

?Takethestacks, pet Your demons stand at thetop of thesteps ?

Natasia shook her head and ignored Macy ? that was just an attempt to trick her into walking into Macy?s open arms Shestarted up thestairs, ignoring the foreboding gloom that hung over her head and grew with each step up Her throat closed up, and her terror tripled. A sickening stench of blood wafted from thetop of thesteps, making her finally pause Shefeared what may lay at thetop of thestairs

Sheturned her head, searching for thewoman she knew lurked in theshadows, and was greeted with the sight of Macy?s hollow brown eyes staring up at her from thebottom of thesteps A gun dangled in her hand, its menacing gleam rocketing Natasia forward until shemadeit to thetop step and slipped forward, landing with a grunt on her hands and knees Sticky liquid slathered her palm and thepink apron wrapped around her other hand. Swallowing, shestared at the bright red puddleshe?d fallen into Revulsion curdled in her stomach and mixed with thehorror

Her eyes trailed up, following thestream of blood to thedead body strung up on thewall Its rotted face stunk of age? this was not a newly dead body The eyes bulged out and thebloated flesh had a grey hue, but shewould recognizethoseboyish brown eyes anywhere

?Wren??her voiceshook with theeffort to stop the tears Her heart wrenched at thesight

?I warned you, pet,?Macy chided. Natasia did not need to look behind her to know that Macy stood at her shoulder

?How? ??Shecouldn? t even finish her thought

?After you stoleall that was ours, all our money, and after you ruined our reputation and left us on the streets, hewas shot by policewhiletrying to steal food for us ?

Stole Natasia hadn? t seen it as stealing at thetime? it was her father?s originally, beforethey?d tricked him and took his company It was only vengeanceto reciprocate Except, Wren hadn? t been a part of it She?d taken everything from them but him. Hewas her best friend for a time, and in that timesherealized he was thebest of them all Hedidn? t deservewhat she?d doneto them And yet, herehewas, taken anyway and strung up It was a sicking attempt, by his own mother, to garner reason for her attack.

Natasia pushed to her feet and turned to faceMacy again Theurgeto surrender, to simply let thewoman who?d lost it all win just oncetugged at her gut But surrender had never been in Natasia?s vocabulary. Her eyes found theshiny metal of thegun again She recognized it as her father?s ? a ?45 caliber with a pearl handle.

?You?rewrong, you know,?Natasia stated Macy cocked her eyebrow ?Alright, I?ll play along What am I wrong about??

?This is not wheremy demons stand,?shestepped forward, ?thesedemons areall your own ?

Shepressed forward oncemoreand raised her hands, too quick for Macy to react beforeher hands wrapped around thewoman?s throat and Natasia began to squeeze

Macy madea strangled sound beforeshedroveone fist into theteen?s gut, but Natasia did not loosen her grip Shestepped forward, pushing Macy backwards until her heels balanced on theedgeof thestairs When shelooked into thewoman?s eyes shedid not seefear ? shesaw rage, and in thenext moment, between the sound of thegun firing and thebullet lodging into her chest, Natasia regretted ever meeting Wren Theboy with sweet brown eyes who madeher feel only guilt every timehesmiled, even moreso when shemet his mother and discovered that it was Macy, thevery woman shewas set on ruining Shehoped that ? before hedied and was robbed of a peaceful resting place? he regretted meeting her too.

Abst r act Tension

Mai Nhu QuynhDoan, c/o'24

"Thiswork isall about theinterplay of linesand form, and how it can beusedtoevokea senseof unease, passion, or conflict. SoI usebold, gestural pen strokestocreatea senseof movement and energy. Theresultingworksareat oncedynamicand unsettling, invitingtheviewer toexploretheemotions and tensionsthat areexpressed in thispiece. For me, art isall about pushingboundariesand challenging expectations Thereforemy goal for thispieceisto createart that israw, andemotive, invitingthe viewer toconnect withtheir own feelingsand experiencesin new and unexpectedways."

Oh, Pol it icians ...

Penname: JuneNguyen

Lovef or music

Selina Truong, c/o'26

A melody that's playing in my ear

Liketheleaves that rustleto thewind's howl

Always creating its own atmosphere

Producing so many beautiful vowels

Sometimes reminding of thelate, cold nights

That makemefeel anything but immune

Tunes that really makeemotions ignite

That remind meof a summer's noon

Never can music betray my ears

Always offering mea peaceof mind

As it is something I will never fear

My lovefor music is just undefined

Music is onething that will not depart

Becauseit will always bein my heart

"Sometimespeopledonot realizethat musicisreally everywhere. Thestoresyou walk intoat themall, or theparks that you walk by withspeakersblasting. Themusicyou surround yourself withisalsotheatmosphereyou surroundyourself with. Dependingon my emotion, I will changethemusicI amlisteningto. Dependingon the musicI listen to, my moodwill change When I need a placetogoto, tosimply relax or just a placetogotoin general, musicwill alwaysbemy first choice It islikemy own controlledenvironment, I can choosewhat genreof musicI listen to, thespeedof it, thepitchof it, everything. Even if I amnot listeningtomusicat that moment, I will besingingit in my head, or listeningtobackground noisetreatingit asmusic. Ever sinceI began listeningto music, I havechangedasa person - theway I connect withpeople, theway I talk. Most of thethingsI doare influencedby musicor artistsI discoveredthroughmusic."

My Never l and

Sara Yara, 2006-2023

I am caring and shy

I wonder if trueloveeven exists in a world that can beso cruel and kind

I hear fairy wings flutter throughout thenight

I seePeter Pan fly across thenight sky

I want to find my soulmatethat is quitethe oppositeof what I had in mind

I am caring and shy

I pretend there?s a world out therethat I?m themain character

I feel as I could fly in theair likeTinkerbell

I touch theclouds as I fly up in thesky

I worry that?ll never find truelovelikePeter and Wendy

I cry that?ll losemy best friends someday and won? t bewithin arms reach

I am caring and shy

I understand nothing is as what it seems, nothing is perfect

I say loveis love

I dream about being under thenight sky with someonefar away

I try not to fall down so easily

I hopeto find a placewhereI can call my safe place

I am caring and shy

"It showstothereader that I can bevery cheesy and romantic. That my safeplaceissomewherethat can? t bereachedbut I can imaginewhat it wouldbelikeand get away fromthiscruel world and just bemyself without beingjudged A placewhereI'm themain character and I get toexperiencethingsthat normally don't happen in thereal world. It alsoshowsthat even withtheworld beingsocruel, therearestill places whereyou can truly beyou and break out of your bubble. Andthat nomatter whoyou areand whoyou fall in lovewith, you?ll alwaysbeloved for whoyou are."

Sara Yara wrotethispoemasa freshman Her family choseit asoneof thereadingsat Sara'smemorial service.

Ka Hana Kaulana

Editor ial Board

Editor- in- Chief

Daisy Wallace

Editors

Aleiah LeiluaToloai

Jewel Guillermo

KatieThai

Kimberly Sam Maniquiz

LeialohaOrta

An Vo Advisers

CynthiaReves

Jordin Carmichael

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Editors' Note

Hi st or y

In the1930s, creativework by McKinley High School studentswaspublished asasupplement in ThePinion, theschool newspaper. In May 1946, that supplement becameitsown publication and wasnamed Ka Hana Kaulana, which thestaff translated asthehighest and finest creativeworkof anykind.

TheLiterary Magazinehad variousnamesover the years. In 2020, thestaff restored itsHawaiian name, Ka Hana Kaulana, which the2021 staff translated as TheCelebratedWork

The2023 student staff selected creativework, used Lucidpressfor thedesign, and appreciated guidance from teachersin theEnglish and Artsdepartments

A rafflefor selected creatorsdelivered an amalgamation of McKinley'screativeoutlet The2023 magazinecan now besomething all can admire.

Big thank yousto Book Club, BakeFor Friends, Key Club, and MicronesiaClub for sponsoring thisyears KaHanaKaulanaand making it possiblefor usto give prizesto so many amazing creators! Makesureto check out thesefantastic and fun clubs.

Check out theonlineversion of the2023 Lit Mag on issuu.com It can also befound on ThePinion'swebsite at mhspinion.com, under theLiterary Magazinetab.

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- Cynthia Reves, adviser, W123

RS 23- 0919, May 2023